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The Mother, The Sister, The Son	By : DrkVrtx Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 7932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Chains and Catastrophe
Elysium stirred, a pulsing pain nestled behind her eyes causing her head to throb. She hissed as she returned slowly and painfully to consciousness. The total darkness of unconsciousness began to fade into the darkness of a space she didn't know or recognize. It was more than unsettling, for Elysium in all her days had never known darkness. She tried to rise in panicked haste, only to find that cold metal bit into her ankles. She realised then that a cold, hard floor met with her knees. She tried to move her hands down to her legs, but found that cold metal was wrapped tightly around her wrists, and that her arms were drawn up to hang in the air. She paused for a moment, panic receding as she began to consider her situation. It seemed she had been...captured. Fascinating. But she was far more than human. Effortlessly, Elysium reached for her otherworldly power, willing light into the space she occupied and destroying the bonds upon her limbs.
But nothing happened.
"What?"
Elysium tried again: nothing. The store of power within her was utterly depleted, and when she tried to reach into the otherworldly realm to draw from there power, she found that she could not extend her senses beyond her present surroundings. Panic and confusion began to seep in. She was reduced to the mere power of the weak human form she had donned. She pulled fiercely at the chains wrapped around her ankles and wrists, but to no avail save imprinting the pattern of them upon her skin. She winced - in...pain? She knew of the feeling, but she had never herself experienced it before. Was she trapped now in this form she had taken to appease the boy?
The chains jangled loudly as she shook her limbs wildly, convinced she could pull herself free with brute strength. But that strength she thought she possessed seemed to be draining away with every moment. Soon her breathing was laboured, and her chest rose and fell. But then, her dipped head rose, her eyes narrowed suddenly in an attempt to pierce the darkness.
She heard voices.

"We finally did it, Pyrrha", Patroklos spoke softly as he walked hand in hand with her towards the room, tucked deep away within the cold, quiet, and for years unoccupied house. Pyrrha held his hand of flesh gently in her twisted claw; though she had freed herself of the influence of Soul Edge through sheer force of will, its effect on her body remained. She had but for a moment become a monster, and though she had fought and retained her mind, many still would look upon her and see only the claw she would bear for the rest of her days. Were it not for Patroklos, it was likely she would have cast her life away in despair.
"I finally get to meet her", Pyrrha said, "our mother".
"Well, it is merely the form of our mother", Patroklos explained as they followed the path of a long, narrow corridor, dust rising with each of their footsteps.
"Still", Pyrrha replied, "you said she retained her appearance and even memories..."
"Indeed she did. Worry not Pyrrha, we can still indulge ourselves. We've been looking forward to this for so long now".
Pyrrha nodded her agreement, clutching her brother's hand a little tighter. She had a dulled sense of feeling in her claw; it had taken a while to become used to it and develop a sense of how to use it as a normal hand of flesh. Patroklos was always patient with her, though, even at times when she almost squeezed him to the point of breaking without realising. She could just feel the warmth of his hand in hers, and it gave her comfort.
"We're here", Patroklos announced as they preceded down towards the first door along the corridor's length, plain and brown with a film of dust settled atop its surface. Pyrrha felt her heart beating with excitement, they had dreamt of this for days and weeks.
"Patroklos", she said, turning to him as they paused at the door, "how did you catch her?"
He turned to her and offered a sly smile, his eyes lighting up as he spoke.
"I will explain...inside", he said as he lifted a hand Pyrrha's cheek, stroking his thumb along her skin.
"Are you ready, sister?"
"I am", she said, reaching forwards and tugging him closer to her, murmuring her words directly onto his lips. A moment later, she giggled and pushed him away. He grinned wolfishly at her after raising an accusatory eyebrow, before reaching forwards to turn the doorknob.

Elysium experienced heavily conflicting feelings in the space of a single moment as the door cracked open and blinding light pierced the room. She winced and pressed her eyes shut; they had been growing accustomed to the darkness of her surroundings and the sudden burst of light brought her pain. Such as it was, she did not see who entered the room and pressed the door shut behind them. But she felt them.
The essence of Soul Calibur hung heavy in the air around one like a sweet aroma, and she lifted her face to it and breathed easily. And then the acrid scent of Soul Edge pervaded her nostrils, her deep intake of breath filling her nose and mouth with its stench and causing her to gag.
"Soul Edge", she hissed into the darkness, leaning back against her bonds away from its presence. Though she sensed Soul Calibur within the room, she could not tell from who or what the essence stemmed. The same was true for Soul Edge, but one thing her dulled senses slowly began to become attuned to was the fact that both seemed to dwell beside one another, both physically and a deeper, emotional bond. Elysium glared into the darkness with confusion.
"Show yourself!"
"Mother, it's so good to see you again".
Elysium gave a start; she recognized the voice and immediately attached an identity to the essence of Soul Calibur emanating from the individual's being.
"My dear son", she spoke softly, adopting the persona which she had discovered held impressive power of the boy's mind. She had sought to use it to bring him into submission, her tool on earth through which she would wield the holy sword.
"Sweet Patroklos, where are we? And who is that beside you?" she asked, her senses finally alerting her to the presence beside the boy, revealing it to be a young girl who she thought she recognised.
"...Mother?" The girl's voice - quiet and innocent - floated through the room, yet to Elysium, it was tinged with the cancerous murmur of Soul Edge. She recoiled instinctively away from it.
"Who are you?" she demanded, "you that bears the cursed sword!"
"She is my sister, Mother. Your daughter", Patroklos answered, his voice coming from behind her though she had not heard his footsteps. She strained to look over her shoulder, though her eyes still failed to pierce the dark. The sound of a match being struck gave her pause, and a moment later, a weak orange light was born in the dark corner of the room.
Shadows danced and swayed in the wake of candle light, and Elysium was finally able to see - to an extent, that extent being the pale face of Patroklos wrapped in shadow, with his form melting in and out of the darkness. He didn't seem too concerned with the candle's apparent failure to cast real illumination within the room.
Her eyes snapped around as she heard the scratching of a match on the opposite side of the room. Weak candle light threw the features of a young girl into troubled view, shadows dancing across her cheeks. She saw a monstrous arm, mottled with darkness and hanging at the girl's side, and recoiled instinctively away from it with a hiss, straining against the cold chains locked about her limbs.
"Come now, Mother, won't you greet her?" Patroklos asked, and she heard his voice moving around the room. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw that he had moved away from the candlelight.
"She is tainted with Soul Edge", Elysium said through gritted teeth, "she is poison".
The girl gasped with hurt. Elysium glared fiercely into the darkness, pulling fiercely at the chains now and filling the room with their ringing, instinctively intent on purging Soul Edge. But then, a familiar hand rested itself upon her shoulder.
"Mother, please", Patroklos said gently, "she is family. We are all family. Because of our weakness, she became victim to Soul Edge. Let us welcome her now, Mother. Welcome her as you welcomed me".
"I will not!" Elysium said determinedly to Patroklos, though she could not raise her voice or grow angry with him. The physical presence of the essence of Soul Calibur upon her shoulder soothed her. Instinctively, she leaned into his touch, the energy of the holy sword flowing through to her, beginning to sharpen her senses and slowly return her strength to her -
"Come, Pyrrha", Patroklos called softly. Elysium heard the shuffling footsteps of the girl, and felt the dangerous, hateful presence of Soul Edge drawing closer.
"No! Away from me!" she cried out, pulling ever more fiercely at her bonds.
"Mother", murmured the girl as she drew near, "I have waited to meet you for so long. Please, embrace me".
Elysium cringed as the girl knelt down before and wrapped her arms around her. The rough, twisted skin of her warped arm scratched her flesh, and she could almost hear the whisper of the cursed sword. She seethed at the girl's impudence. But then, Patroklos had knelt behind her, and as he too took her into his arms, she was soothed. The influence of Soul Edge was quenched beneath the light of the holy sword from whence her existence stemmed. She leaned backwards against Patroklos' chest.
"Mother, don't you see?" he said, "we are a family, and we are all we have left for each other".
"I'm so happy", Pyrrha whispered, resting her head against Elysium's chest.
Patroklos - Soul Calibur, was cool at her back. Pyrrha, with the influence of Soul Edge present within her was hot and prickly against Elysium's skin. Elysium tried to turn her head and body away from the girl, but the embrace of the siblings was tight around her.
"This is the happiness I promised you, Pyrrha", Patroklos said over Elysium's shoulder, "Mother, won't you greet her as you did to me?"
Elysium turned her head towards him. "What?"
His face was hidden in mottled darkness, though they were so close to each other, but she felt his cool palms suddenly at her jaw. The cool presence of Soul Calibur eased the prickly, uncomfortable heat that stemmed from the girl's contact with her.
"Come, Pyrrha", Patroklos said softly.
"Are you sure, brother?" Pyrrha asked, lifting her face. Her eyes sparkled with innocence and her skin was tinged with the slightest blush. Shadows danced across her freckled cheeks as she gazed up into her brother's eyes.
"Of course, Pyrrha", he assured her with a soothing tone.
Elysium looked and listened with growing confusion, sifting quickly through the memories stored in the form she had taken to appease the boy to no avail. But then, she felt the girl - and the wicked heat of Soul Edge, drawing closer. Understanding dawned.
"Awa -!"
The girl's lips sealed hers. Elysium's eyes widened in shock and ripped her lips away - or at least would have, if Patroklos had not held her face steady, his hands somehow becoming a vice she could not overpower, though he seemed to be exerting no extra pressure upon her.
"That's it", he said, "greet her as you did me, Mother. With a kiss. Warm with love and hope for a better future. Isn't that so?"
Unfortunately, that was exactly how she had first welcomed him when she had drawn his spirit being to the otherwordly land that had become her place of rest. But it had been for the greater good, to forge him into the perfect tool through which she would purge the chaos of Soul Edge from the world below. But now, that very same influence was in direct contact with her, burning lips upon hers, and the only thing keeping her from screaming out in disgust and wrath the cool, soothing hands of Soul Calibur's chosen wielder.
"She's warm and soft, Patroklos", Pyrrha whispered as she parted lips.
"Yes, she is", Patroklos agreed, his hands moving slowly down away from her face, tracing the path of her neck and sliding across to her shoulders. His touch excited her skin with ripples of energy, the essence of the holy sword empowering her form, returning to her her strength -
"Kiss her again, Pyrrha. Take your time".
Elysium protested as the girl's lips sealed hers once more, and she found that her strength was sapped. Even without Patroklos' hands at her jaw, she could not turn her head. It was more than just the taint of Soul Edge upon the girl's tongue as she slipped it between her lips, there was something else at work here. She pulled weakly at the chains. Patroklos hummed softly as his hands slipped underneath the thin shift that clothed her torso.
Elysium gasped as she felt his hands upon her breasts, gently squeezing them as a single digit flicked slowly across her nipple. She leaned back into his body, and as Pyrrha released her lips, she turned her face to him, breathing a weighted sigh. Pyrrha brought her lips to Elysium's bare neck, lapping at the sweet flesh and leaving her skin moist with kisses.
"Patroklos, my dear son, you will not lie to your mother, will you?"
"Of course not, Mother. I love you", Patroklos answered. His hands slid to the underside of her breasts, lifting and squeezing them as his thumbs brushed lightly across the nipple.
"Where am I?" she said in a breathy voice, "if you love me, my son, why have you chained me? And what are these chains? Do you seek to torture me?"
"Slowly now, Mother", Patroklos said, breathing the words into her ear as he gave her breasts a firm squeeze, drawing the hint of a gasp from her lips. He rested his head against her shoulder, looking down on Pyrrha as she lapped and kissed the flesh of her throat. She raised her eyes to meet his, and he of course saw through the veil of innocence and shyness she had adopted, gazing into the fire of passion and lust that stirred his loins. She traced a path with her lips and tongues, bringing herself ever closer to him until their breath, warm and sweet, intermingled. She teased him with the promise of her lips, remaining just out of reach.
"These chains, Mother, they are brilliant, don't you think?" he asked, removing a hand for a moment to reach up and lightly tug at the chains.
"You would look upon them and think nothing of it...but they seem strong enough to bind my angelic mother".
"What are they?" Elysium demanded, leaning away from Pyrrha's lips.
"They are formed from the metal of the two swords, Mother - mostly Soul Edge, but a little of Soul Calibur, too. To soothe you".
Elysium's eyes widened. "You turned to the swords into chains? You melted down the great swords of legend into mere strips of metal?"
Patroklos chuckled. "Mother, you underestimate us".
"We can control their form", Pyrrha explained, "right, Patroklos?"
"That we can", he said, smiling. But Elysium shook her head, what they were saying was unfathomable. Impossible.
"I do not believe it".
"Then free yourself", she heard Patroklos say, and she could hear the smirk in his tone. Still, she shook her head, and while doing so pulled again at the chains around her wrist and ankles.
"How?" she demanded.
"I worried that you would sense my plans when I called to you, but it seems I should have more faith in myself. I used the essence of Soul Calibur to mask my intentions, and then to bring you into submission".
"I would not succumb to a mere human!" Elysium said fiercely. Patroklos smiled.
"But you did, Mother. You see, I understood that I possessed Soul Calibur in its full, true form, while you were a...spiritual offshoot of it, thus through the sword I hold, I have authority over you".
Elysium kept her silence for a moment, seething. What the boy said was true, though his manner of explaining and clearly understanding it was simple.
"Then...why?"
"So that we could be a family, Mother. It only seemed fair that we should reunite as we did when you first called and revealed yourself to me".
"I will not dwell with a child of Soul Edge!"
"Come, Patroklos", Pyrrha murmured softly, her lips parted and moist. He leaned over Elysium's shoulder and joined his lips with his sister's. Elysium looked on in absolute horror. Unlike the shy, hesitant manner in which the girl had kissed her, with her brother she was suddenly comfortable and at ease. Elysium felt nausea chewing through her stomach as she watched them explore each other's mouth thoroughly, tongues curving around each other as they probed deep and long between lips. It was not the sight of incestuous passion that stirred her disgust, but the intimate union of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur.
"Stop this!" she cried out, pulling at the chains, "it is forbidden!"
They drew away from each other, slowly. Pyrrha's tongue hung limp and wet and quivering from her open mouth as Patroklos gazed into her eyes with a fierce intensity. She drew her tongue back into its abode as she leaned forward against Elysium's body, reaching down to Patroklos' groin and slipping warm hands into his breeches.
"Mother", he spoke as Pyrrha released him and he stood to his feet, "allow us to greet you".
She needed to regain her strength. The power of the swords had corrupted them both. The girl, victim to Soul Edge was of no surprise. But Elysium was shocked and horrified with Patroklos. He had defiled the holy sword by lying with the bearer of Soul Edge. He had more than just lost his way, he had rejected the order and purpose of the sword that had deemed him worthy to wield it. They would both need to be purged from this world, their taint was sickening. She had realised that direct contact with Patroklos and the essence of Soul Calibur would begin to restore her. Conversely, the touch of the girl sapped her strength. But she was sure of their intentions now, despite the influence of the Soul Edge through the wretched girl's contact with her, she would draw from Patroklos the power of the holy sword, and slay him in the fire of its wrath.

Patroklos curled a hand around himself and stroked slowly as he turned to stand before his mother. She was chained to the floor on her knees, her form wrapped in the darkness of the room which danced in the weak candlelight stemming from its corners. He could not see her clearly, the sway of the shadows causing her to seem to melt in and out of a state of solidity. Her creamy skin, long golden hair and pure white colour of her clothes stood out, however. He adopted a wide stance as he reached forward with his other hand, taking his mother's face between his fingers. Pyrrha crawled between his legs, settling herself on her knees and leaning down to take their mother's breasts into her hands, the nipples into her mouth.
"Come, Mother", he said, smiling down at her. She lifted her eyes to his as she leaned forwards, opening her mouth to take him in.
"Mmm", he moaned appreciatively as she slipped his head between her lips. He reached behind her head, pushing his fingers into her thick, soft hair and giving her an encouraging nudge forwards. She took more of him into her mouth, wrapping her lips tightly around him and trailing her tongue against the underside of his length. He pushed his hips forwards, lifting his eyes briefly upwards as her mouth - warm and wet - greedily took him in. Her lips were tight around him and the pressure of her tongue heavy against him. She began to move her lips along his length, swift and practised.
He groaned loudly, reaching down between his legs and running his fingers through Pyrrha's hair as she squeezed and licked and sucked, finding the differences between the textures of his mother's and sister's hair fascinating. Pyrrha's was not as thick, or as long, but it felt more silky to the touch. It slid easily between his fingers as he pushed them deep into her locks.
His mother's administrations suddenly distracted him as she steadily picked up her pace, maddeningly arousing slurping and sucking sounds coming from her lips as she pleasured him. He moaned deeply in satisfaction, turning his face up to the dark ceiling.
"Eager today, aren't you, Mother?" Patroklos said with a smirk as he looked down at her. Her head bobbed back and forth, her eyes gazing up at him, shining.
"Mmm. Slow down..." he murmured, and as he spoke, he pulled firmly on her hair. She gave a small yelp as her head was pulled backwards. He slipped from her mouth, his length glistening with her saliva as pre-cum oozed from his tip. He tilted her head to look up at him.
"There is no rush, okay Mother? We have time, so much time. Now", he said, bringing his tip to rest on her lips, "nice and slow".
She opened her mouth and he re-introduced himself to her. She closed her lips just behind his head, and slowly lapped at his flesh, applying a gentle, rhythmic suction.
"That's it", Patroklos told her as she gradually took in more of him, "it feels so good".
"Pyrrha, sweet sister", he said as he lifted his hand from her hair. Her lips locked around their mother's nipple, she only hummed in response.
"Mmm?"
"Make her ready for me".
Patroklos pushed his now free hand into his mother's hair and began to guide her movement as he pushed his hips forward. She took the entirety of his length without complaint, her eyes always intensely focused on his as he groaned with every other thrust. A few moments later though, she suddenly lurched forwards, her back arching as a gasp escaped her throat. Patroklos grinned. Glancing down, he saw his sister lying between their mother's knees, hands pushed beneath the small length of cloth that veiled her loins.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" he said to her, gripping her hair tighter as he pushed her down his length. Glancing down again, he saw that Pyrrha was giving her administrations with the claw Soul Edge's influence had cursed her with. Clearly, the uneven texture of the limb was wildly different to the sensation his digits had drawn from his mother in their past encounters, for it seemed to be driving her rather quickly to the brink. She moaned into him, and he answered with his own groan as the vibrations rippled through him. He suddenly felt his member throbbing, and through sheer, but practised will, took himself from between her warm lips. She gasped as he released himself, breathing audibly and heavily, her head drooping as Pyrrha now set her tongue to work.
Patroklos himself took several deep breaths, calming himself and his body as he moved round Elysium, finally settling on his knees behind her. There, he contented himself for a few moments by merely watching the incredibly erotic scene unfolding before him. Pyrrha had pushed a single thick, clawed digit into their mother's centre, and her tongue flicked delicately across her pink bud. Whimpers of pleasure were quickly becoming audible, and Elysium shook her head to and fro, her thick golden braid swaying from side to side along her back as her knees began to tremble.
"Patroklos", he heard her say, "my son, I need you".
He smiled and called to his sister instead, taking himself in hand. She looked up at him before shifting her body slightly so that she could accommodate him. He lifted his posture, pressing his body against his mother's back as he fed his length into Pyrrha's waiting mouth. Resting his head upon her shoulder once more, he allowed his hands to trace a path down to her inner thighs, pausing to catch her stiff, wet nipples between a thumb and finger. Then, reaching her centre, he slipped a finger between her lips alongside his sister's. His mother cast her beautiful head back against his shoulder with a long groan.
"Isn't this wonderful, Mother?" he asked. "We are together at last, as a family".
"Patroklos..." she whispered in his ear.
Below them, Patroklos felt Pyrrha release him with one last greedy lap of pre-cum, before taking him in hand to guide him to their mother's centre. He shuffled forwards a little on his knees when she gave him a slight tug.
"Here I come, Mother", he murmured as Pyrrha pressed his tip to his mother's lips.
"Yes, Patroklos", she breathed, " I want you".
Lifting both hands to his mother's chest, Patroklos then pushed himself between her lips, driving to the hilt of his length. Her shout of pleasure was music to his ears, but he did not give her time to savour it, instead gripping her breasts firmly to use as leverage as he began to thrust deeply into her. The wet slap of flesh joined her chorus of pleasure, and Patroklos began to whisper into her ear as her body shook with each of his thrusts.
Pyrrha rose up from beneath them, placing herself in front of them with her legs spread wide. Supporting herself with one hand, the other - the clawed, twisted hand - moved down between her legs, lifting her skirts and disappearing into her undergarments, two thick digits parting her lips as another plunged deep into her. Her groans and whimpers soon harmonized with her mother's. Her intense gaze was fixed on Patroklos as he watched her pleasure herself. She tossed her golden locks for him and he groaned deeply, thrusting strong and deep into their mother. He grit his teeth as he felt his member throb, pressure building throughout his length. Watching him intently, Pyrrha saw him reaching the brink and in between her cries of pleasure, whispered "Come, Patroklos. My dear brother, come".
"Hnngh -!"
But he couldn't - not yet. His mother had always made him withdraw. She refused him nothing save him releasing his seed within her. It was a practice that had carried over to the relationship between himself and Pyrrha. They had no means of preventing pregnancy, and beyond that, they were aware of the nature of the energies flowing through them. Even in the throes of pleasure, they somehow managed to retain the sensibility to consider the repercussions that could harm a future child. And so, reining himself in, gritting his teeth to the point of pain, Patroklos pulled himself from his mother's warm, wet centre. He squeezed the muscles of his loin tightly as he made to stand and move around to push himself into his mother's mouth. Instead, she cried: 'No!"
"Patroklos, wait", she spoke quickly, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.
"Mother?"
"We are a family now", she said, "together forever. I cannot deny you anything any longer, my dear son. It has been a great trial, I know. Forgive me. Let us commemorate this moment, Patroklos. Come".
Patroklos stared down at his mother for a long moment, keeping the presence of mind at least to continue squeezing the muscles of his loins until the fiery urge began to waver.
"Are - are you sure?"
"I am", she told him, her voice warm and sincere. "We are family now, let us become one, you and I".

Elysium sifted rapidly through the memories of the form she had taken, drawing upon facial expressions through which to best persuade Patroklos to finish what she had always forbidden him from doing so. She brought a warm, coaxing smile to her lips and a joyous, sincere light to her eyes. He seemed to be deep in thought, but eventually, a smile broke through, curving his mouth.
"I agree", he said at last, "we have held ourselves back for so long".
"Indeed, my son", she said softly, smiling up at him. And then she turned her head, hearing the movement of his feet, her centre expectant and aching to be filled. Her body trembled not only in the anticipation of pleasure but also the anticipation of the immense surge of power that would flow into her when Patroklos came to his completion within her. Taking him into her mouth and centre had already restored a portion of her power - though not yet enough to burst the chains the two great swords had been morphed into, though she could now actually sense their presence within the metal. She had masked cries of pain as Soul Edge burned into her flesh behind shouts of ecstasy. The small, but solid presence of the holy sword allowed her to persist, even as the wretched girl had thrust her tainted claw deep into her being.
"Come, Patroklos", she breathed into the semi-darkness.
He did, but not to her.
"Pyrrha", Patroklos spoke softly as he stepped around Elysium. She lifted her hand of flesh to him without a word, and as he took it, lay down on her back, taking him down gently with her. Elysium looked up and gazed at them in utter horror.
"Wait! No! Patroklos!"
He ignored her, kneeling between his sister's thighs and taking himself in hand.
"Do not do this! Patro -!"
Elysium choked as the wretched girl stretched out her clawed limb in her direction, somehow manipulating the energies of Soul Edge from distance. Chains grew from those at her wrists, snaking down her arms before wrapping tightly around her throat. If Patroklos saw this, he took no notice, and each time Elysium tried to call out, the chains grew thicker and tighter until it took all of her effort to simply suck in air. The chains at her arms and legs jangled until they too thickened and tightened and her struggles were put to rest. It was over.
Pyrrha lifted her legs and her brother slipped her undergarments off of her, gazing into her eyes as she lowered her legs around him. She spread them wide to either side of her, knees angled up to the opposite wall. He shuffled forwards and placed himself at her lips, pushing ever so slightly against her wet entrance.
"I love you, Pyrrha", he told her.
"Patroklos", she murmured very softly, smiling warmly up at him.
He pushed gently into her and she sighed, reaching up to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, pulling his face down to hers. Buried to the hilt, he lay down atop her, cradling the back of her head in his hands as he leaned down to meet her lips. His thrusts were deep and strong and urgent. Elysium's strangled cry was drowned out thoroughly by the sibling's chorus of pleasure and the wet slap of flesh.
"Pyrrah - !"
"Oh Patroklos, oh - !"
He filled her with a deep groan, and at the same time, light - blood red and crystal blue - burst forth from their eyes, meeting and clashing immediately for dominance. A cry and shout of pleasure became a roar and scream of pain and anguish. Elysium, wide-eyed and panicked, let loose a shriek of real fear as a wave of tumultuous red-blue light lanced towards her. The acrid stench of burning was thick on the air as the room was consumed by the warring essences of the two great swords.

"...Patroklos? Please...wake up!"
Pyrrha's hands shook as she cradled her brother's head in her lap. The room and everything that had been it had been scorched. Skin peeled from Pyrrha's hand of flesh as she tried to stroke the blackened brow of Patroklos, her claw was rested upon his chest, glowing with heat. At the centre of the room, the charred remains of the woman they had called 'Mother' smoked slightly, taking the full force of the chaotic mixture of energies emanating from the holy and cursed swords - but Pyrrha had paid it no mind.
She called to her brother again, even as she began to understand the truth. And as she did, she began to weep. The beginning of tears signified the act of acceptance, and as she realised and understood this, the full weight of grief suddenly fell upon her. Keening filled the silent, smoking room. Clutching her brother's body tightly to her, Pyrrha looked up the heavens and shrieked her grief, in the same breath cursing her life and the gods that had crafted her fate. Her scream shook the walls and the room shuddered in fear of her embittered rage.
In a voice made indecipherable through grief, Pyrrha promised the gods vengeance. Time and again, she had been stripped from her family and cast into the unknown. Time and again, she had been abandoned to the winds of fate. No more.
"No more!"
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The Mother, The Sister, The Son